The Unsung Heroes
by Jago Pulastra
Summary: The Four Wings of Sand Island were said to be the angels of Osea's forces during the Circum-Pacific war. However, even angels have guardians, and theirs come in the form of Panther Squadron. UPDATES: Chapter 3 now up!
1. Uneasy Tidings

Author's Foreward: Hello, one and all. This is my first fanfiction piece ... well, ever. Ever since I played Ace Combat 5, which, in my opinion, had such a stupendous storyline and was revealed bit by bit in such a beautiful way, I've always had the idea of another squadron of Osean pilots. For some reason, these pilots would always work either directly or indirectly to helping the Four Wings of Sand Island and, later, the Ghosts of Razgriz, turn the tide of the war and eventually uncover the Belkan plot. However, these pilots would also remain relatively unknown, in the shadow of Wardog's and Razgriz's fame. Hence, the Unsung Heroes of the Unsung War. Please, any and all comments, as well as _constructive_ criticism is more than welcome. I plan to be able to publish at least one chapter a week, however I am quite busy and if at any time I am unable to keep up with my set timeframe, I will be sure to let any and all readers know.

Enjoy.

Also, the Ace Combat title, series, characters, and events are all property of Namco, designed by Project Aces. I do not hold claim to them, nor will I ever seek to establish claim of them. This is an unofficial plot set within Namco's Ace Combat universe, and holds no barring over the actual events portrayed.

* * *

_Fifteen years ago there was a war._

_War's always broken out there plenty of times before, but luck was never on their side for long. They hadn't realized that times had changed, facing one defeat after another and watching their nation dwindle. Undaunted, they built up their military strength to unprecedented heights and waged one, final battle against the world: a war that would ungulf an entire continent.. They fought ferociously but were utterly defeated by a group of allies, both large and small._

_Then, the Belkans committed the unthinkable; Rather than lose once more, rather than suffer the shame of another defeat, they used nuclear weapons on their own soil, vaporizing seven towns along their southern border to stave off the advancing allied forces. Seeing this tragedy unfold before their own eyes, the victorious countries vowed to throw down their weapons. The Belkan War was over._

_The world was once again at peace, and, thanks to the allied powers of the superpowers Osea and Yuktobania, and other nations on the Osean Continent such as Ustio and Sapin, it seemed it would last forever._

_That was fifteen years ago._

* * *

**Bana, Osean Federation:** **September 25****th****, 2010**

" Cap'n, have you heard yet? Command may be cutting our rec' a little early this time."

Second Lieutenant Diego Autan took another swig of his beer as he shared the news, his eyes alive with an almost-frantic energy. The man he was talking to could not help but chuckle: he had seen that same look in young Diego ever since he had joined the squadron. Always wanting to play a part, always wanting to be a part of the team. What more could a Captain want in a new recruit?

" Easy, Autan," he advised him, raising a hand and lowering it slowly as if to suppress his wingman's bountiful vigor, still smiling, " Now, what makes you think our recess is going to end soon?"

" Christ, you really haven't heard?" Diego inquired, an eyebrow raising as he leaned in a bit, dropping his voice, " I have it on good authority that Sand Island, y'know, our western-most defensive point? Well, I _heard_ that it was attacked yesterday. Lotta nuggets killed …"

He paused, returning his flight leader's scoff with a rueful eye, " Captain Ekken, I'm serious," Diego's voice took on a gravity that was completely uncharacteristic of him, " I went through flight school with a few of those guys… They say there's only four left. Four pilots, on an entire airbase…"

Peter Ekken was unsettled at Diego's tone, but was unsure of just how true such a ludicrous story could be. What enemy did Osea have? Why would _anyone_ even _think_ of attacking one of the most militarily powerful nations on Earth? Regardless of the lieutenant's sincerity, it was a rather hard claim to take without a shred of doubt. Still…

" Alright, I'll humor you," he relented, his own curiosity piqued, " Where did this information come from? Who told you?"

Diego smiled slightly as he recalled a loud, boisterous young adult who_, _in what had to have been a record, managed to piss off every, single, last flight instructor at Heierlark Air Force Base.

" One of the last pilots left there managed to get a message out to me. We go way back, before we even joined the Academy. His name is Alvin, sir. Alvin Davenport."

Peter shook his head as he tilted his bottle back again, sighing as he tasted the last bit of the barley-based beverage left in the brown glass: a depressing moment indeed.

" Never heard of him," he commented finally, the entire situation becoming stranger and stranger. If, indeed, _somehow_ Osea was attacked … Why wasn't he notified? Why wasn't any other Squadron that he knew of notified? It made no sense, none at all. How did someone cover up the deaths of at least twenty pilots?

Just as he was about to ask more about this "Davenport", both men turned at the _pop-hiss_ of another bottle being cracked open.

" You know, you two are hard to find," the feminine figure quipped, flashing both of them a smile. She was a raven-haired beauty, regardless of the fact that her hair was kept trimmed and short to fit well under a fighter pilot's helmet, and her green eyes had tricked many an unwary suitor into thinking she was a soft-hearted doe. The lioness inside often enjoyed toying with such prey before making it well known that there probably was no man in all of Osea that could handle her.

" Cassandra, so glad you could join us," Peter offered her a 'cheers' with his beer, the glass clanking as Diego gave her a timid wave. Not only did Cassandra Lunae outrank Diego, but she also, frankly, scared the hell out of him, something that the two senior officers took with great jest.

" Afternoon, Lieutenant Lunae," he greeted her, before conveniently being distracted by something ordinary in the nearby street. Smiling bemusedly, Cassandra turned her attention to her captain, lightly motioning her head to Panther Squadron's newest member.

" What's got him all worked up?"

" Apparently," Peter began to explain unsure of how exactly he should put it, " Our resident nugget thinks that … That Sand Island airbase … That the airbase was attacked. Hard."

At that, Cassandra's eyes lost their intensity and grew a touch sad, nodding slowly, " Yeah, I know. I guess if you heard, too, Diego, the-"

" Wait, _what_?" the Captain interrupted, incredulous, " You heard this too?"

" Yes, I know one of the Intel Officers stationed there. He just sent me a short email before I came down here: 'Sand Island hit, pilots-slash-planes lost'. That was it," she summed up, her expression taking on a suspicious mask, " You think the Base Commander is trying to cover it up?"

" Hard to say … Isn't it Perrault?"

" I believe so. Never did like him," Cassandra admitted, expressing her displeasure for the self-named "Island King". It was well known that the officer had little love for fighter pilots, though none of them knew where that stemmed from. However, regardless of whether or not he hated the so-called Knights of the Air, would _any_ Base Commander go so far as to hide the fact that he lost over 80% of his forces in one engagement?

" Something doesn't add up. Not at all," the Captain mused, immediately slipping back into a role of authority and command, capturing his crew's attention with ease as always. " Lunae, Autan, stay in contact with your informants. Any new information comes your way, you let me know immediately."

" Yessir," they chorused, the mood becoming much more grey as Peter gazed up towards the cerulean sky. Clouds wisped through its purity, accessorizing the painting with quick touches of a soft brush dipped in snow-white. Soon, they would be back where they belonged, back up in the sky's embrace. It was their home, their mother's cradling embrace, and no matter what it always seemed that they were called back to it.

" Well, you might be right, newbie," Peter agreed finally, shaking his head, " Our recess _is_ going to be much shorter …"


	2. Smoke and Fire

**CHAPTER HAS RECENTLY BEEN UPDATED EXTENSIVELY**:

Including: Additional Content, fixed spelling errors, fixed grammar errors, fixed several author's mistakes

Author's Foreward: I do not own any part of the Ace Combat series, including characters, locations, and events. All rights go to Namco and Project Aces, and kudos to them for making such a great game.

Please note that this is a _much_ longer chapter than my previous one. You have been forewarned, dear reader.

* * *

**McNealy Air Force Base (AFB), Osean Federation: September 27****th****, 2010**

The pilots sitting in the briefing room were stunned. Shocked into silence. The only time it was ever quieter at McNealy AFB was before it was paved down into runways, hangars, and barracks. It simply couldn't be happening, and yet it was.

" Sir," one of the fighter jockeys began uneasily, shifting his weight in his chair as he tried to find the comfort that wouldn't come, " Are … are you _sure_?"

" Goddamnit, why wouldn't I be?" the colonel roared back, his features darkened from the light cast by the display in back of him. The shadow only served to make the sharp lines and features of his silhouette stand out even more, presenting a rather terrifying portrait to any nugget.

" At twelve-hundred today," the officer continued, " The Union of Yuktobanian Republics unexpectedly declared war upon us. As if a former ally turning against us wasn't bad enough, they've also launched an offensive at almost the same hour," he explained, the gaggle of pilots still looking on as if this were some nightmare their bodies refused to drag them out of.

One of them questioned back, " Colonel Willards, did any of our perimeter defenses catch the opposing forces' approach?"

Ruefully, Willards shook his head, " Unfortunately, Captain Ekken, no. They were reading friendly Eye-Eff-Eff* signatures, right up until the point where they fired. Seems High Command didn't deem it necessary to let our boys know that we aren't chummy with the Yukes anymore."

A few nervous chuckles circulated the room, before being hushed as the display in back of the CO* flashed from the news report of the opening of hostilities to a site that made more than a few gasp.

" This," the Colonel continued without missing a beat, as if such atrocities were normal to him, " Is our naval port at Saint Hewlett."

The picture behind the man showed a city on fire, a bay burning as oil and flame licked at the shoreline. The Yukes, it seemed, didn't know how to discriminate from a military target and a civilian one.

" It is currently one of the Yukes' targets due to the fact that the aircraft carrier, _Kestrel_, is there. Now, if you boys and girls did your homework back in Arr-Oh-Tee-See* or however the Hell you made it here, you should recognize the name."

" Sir," Diego Autan chimed in, " Oh-Eff-Ess* _Kestrel_ is the centerpiece of the Third Fleet. It served during the Belkan War, fifteen years ago in support of Operation Costner, and helped hasten the war's end."

" Hmm, well one of you isn't completely ignorant of our nation's history, it seems," the officer mused, before nodding in agreement, " Well, you heard the man: the _Kestrel_ is the flagship of the Third Osean Naval Fleet, and I'll be damned if we lose that carrier on opening day. However, we've got a lot to deal with right now, and little reinforcements to spare …"

As the colonel went on with the rest of the briefing, Diego turned back towards Peter, still anxious, still unusually peppy.

" Where do you think we're getting sent, boss?"

" I dunno," the captain replied coolly, running a hand through his dark hair: a sign of contemplation, frustration, or both. In this case, it was certainly the latter.

" Well, either way, looks like we're in for some chop," added Cassandra, " Yuktobania is probably the only nation in the _world_ that could stand up to us militarily … They've got the planes and the ships to go toe-to-toe."

" Forget it," dismissed a blonde-haired boy who looked like he would've been better off in the Osean Army than crammed into an ejector seat, so stocky he was, " They struck like cowards, no honor, the whole lot of those Yuke bastards. Only the weak sneak up on someone like that."

" Weak, maybe," Peter commented, before casting the young man a challenging smirk, " The clever, too. They caught us off-guard, who cares how they did it? This is a very _real_ situation we have to deal with. Once we get up there, honor, pride, it doesn't matter at all. You got that, Dirk?" he leveled his eyes at him, their ice blue glare sending a chill down Dirk Ewan's spine.

" Crystal, sir," he replied. He may have been younger than the rest of the squadron, but he had been flying with Peter Ekken long enough to know not to test him.

" Good. What matters is getting home _alive_, and no matter where we go, you stick to me, and we're all coming home. Hua?*"

" Hua, Cap'n," came the reply from all three of them.

" Panther Squadron!" called the colonel at that moment, after the four were done having their private conversation. They popped out of their seats and sliced the air with their sharp salutes, all standing at perfect attention.

" Sir, yes sir!" they chorused, jitters and anxiety grabbing hold of every one of them, whether they showed or admitted it, or tried to deny it to the best of their abilities.

" You're being sent to Saint Hewlett. Double-time, to your fighters, you have top priority for take-off clearance. Good luck, and good hunting."

" Sir, thank you sir!"

* * *

**Port of St. Hewlett, Osean Federation: ~2 hours later**

" All wings, report in."

" Panther Two, standing by."

" Panther Three, all systems are go."

" Panther Four, on your mark, Lead."

The four fighters cut through the clouds and blue as they raced with all haste towards the port. No one knew just how much destruction had already been inflicted on the port, or the status of the _Kestrel_, but that didn't stop the four fighters of Panther Squadron from flying with their throttle fully open all the way from McNealy. Their blue-and-grey F-20A Tigersharks blended in well with the bleak sky surrounding them, although Peter remarked to himself that radar didn't necessarily care what color a fighter was.

" We're coming up on the port now," Captain Ekken informed his Flight, " Disengage fuel drop tanks. Set your flaps for high maneuverability and maintain visual scanning."

" Tigress, copy," Cassandra confirmed.

" Jackal, copy," Diego adjusted the various controls of his craft as he reported in.

" Cougar, copy," came the call back from Dirk, flying trail for the entire squadron.

" Leopard, this is Tigress," Panther 3 hailed her Flight Lead, " Allied fighters approaching Saint Hewlett, vector one-niner-zero."

" Roger, Three. Everyone, open up your comm channels to all friendly sources. We're going to get calls for help from all over, so stay frosty and keep your head on a swivel."

The fighter jets continued to near the harbor, when the friendly squadron that Cassandra Lunae had picked out finally came into contact with them.

" Panther Squadron, this is Wardog Squadron, do you read?"

" Confirmed, Wardog. SitRep?*?

" Enemy fighters inbound from two-eight-zero, AWACS is reporting two waves. We're flying one short here as well."

" Copy that, Wardog. We'll take trail and cover your flight. Pick off the first wave, we'll hang high and grab the second."

" Sound plan, let's do it."

Peter could only grin under his breath mask, " On your mark."

* * *

As soon as the seven planes entered the area of the port, all Hell broke loose. Peter looked down towards the large bay just in time to see a fireball erupt from the waves, static and chatter cluttering his radio. The bay had been hit hard just before they arrived, and the first wave was rounding around for a second assault.

" The tanker next to us just exploded!" cried out a frantic voice from one of the vessels below, " Where's the fireboat? It's spreading to our ship, help us!"

The pilots of Panther Squadron, while watching on in horror, could do nothing to help the poor souls trapped aboard the burning wreckage. Rather, they had to make sure that not a single other ship suffered the same fate.

" Wardog Lead, Blaze, we're waiting on you," Captain Ekken informed the leader of the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron based on Sand Island.

" Starting our approach now. Intruders inbound, their heading straight for the port."

" I see it, I see it, Panther Squadron, hold tight."

" We're just going to sit here and watch the harbor burn?!" came a defiant and rage-fueled response.

" Panther Four, can it! We let Wardog clear the way first, then we bag as many as we can, now shut up and hold tight!"

" Yes, sir," the defeated reply crackled through his headset. Peter knew that Dirk was itching to let loose, and the Captain also knew that, given the chance, Dirk could probably take on half the Yuke fighters in the area, given enough ammo, but he needed to keep him restrained at the moment. When the time was right, he would let the hunter loose, but for now he had to be patient.

" Lead, this is Three, I've got enemies inbound from two-eight-zero, moving much faster, I think they're fighter jets."

Just as 'Leopard' was about to respond, a ship from below almost echoed his sentiments as a crew member blurted out, " Nobody saw them coming?!" causing him to grin wryly. That was the real question: how did this massive attack slip right through their defense network, and no one raised a single alarm?

Another explosion rocked the bay, catching the pilots' attention. Their ears were filled with more cries and pleas for help, Diego Autan feeling his chest tighten as he watched on in horror.

" The fireboat got caught in the explosion. Two … no, three ships are burning now!" a voice screamed, the static accompanied with the screams and cries of the dying.

Diego couldn't take it: the noise was unbearable, to listen to men and women suffer, be burned alive, and drown in a metal casket ... This was his first battle. In fact, this was Panther Squadron's first battle overall: none of them had seen war, had witnessed the ravage landscape that sat below them.

So lost in his thoughts, it took an alarm to shake him back into reality, just as Panther Two's warning lights started to flash.

" Damnit, this is Jackal, enemy's got a fix on me!"

" Panthers, disperse!"

All of the fighters heeded their captain's word, breaking and pulling hard maneuvers to shake whatever fighters had managed to creep up on them.

" Incoming MiGs, here we go!" a random pilot called out, and indeed Peter saw that his fellow Osean's eyes weren't lying: two flights of MiG-29s were ingressing rapidly, before peeling off and advancing towards the fleet. Their erratic flight patterns were intent on distracting the defending pilots and confusing the AA fire below. Peter wouldn't have any of it.

" Panthers, turn and engage the enemy fighters! We've got to give Wardog cover!"

More frantic calls over the communications equipment came in at full volume as the four wings prepared to turn and burn with the Yuktobanian fighters.

" Protect the _Kestrel_ at all costs!" declared an unknown Captain, his own vessel in the thick of the fighting as he tried to pull out of the harbor and into the larger bay. His smaller frigate was being picked apart by two A-6s, and his guns weren't able to zero in on them. Just as they passed by, the vessel's SAM got off a shot, the missile taking down one of the Intruders. As the crew was celebrating the small victory, the ship lurched suddenly, tossing several sailors overboard as an explosion ripped into the starboard bow. Water began to seep into the hull quickly, the mariners rushing to try and patch up the leak just as another missile struck the same spot. The warship was swallowed by the bay in seconds, trapping all hands aboard in a watery tomb.

Cassandra was watching the terrible sight, and happened to spy the two MiGs that had gotten in the killing shot on the small warship. Her trained eyes followed their flightpath right towards a larger vessel, and she immediately dived to intercept them, hailing her Captain as she did.

" Lead, two fighters headed for that cruiser."

" Confirmed, Three. I'll take the leader, you nab the other one."

" Roger. Let's clean some house."

The two Osean jets tore off after the enemy MiGs, intent on blowing them away before they opened fire. Cassandra was able to get a lock on the Element's wingman first, waiting until she was just a little closer before tapping the firing stud on the top of her flight stick. A heat-seeking missile broke away from her wing and ignited its rocket, racing forward to meet with the Yuktobanian fighter. As the two metal objects collided, fire engulfed the space where the MiG-29A was, its splintered fuselage splashing into the water below. The other MiG continued to race for the cruiser, Peter hot on his tail, just as another message came through his communication's channel.

" It's time for our AEGIS ship to live up to its name," proclaimed an officer aboard the AA Cruiser _Excalibur_, moments before her deck became alive with guns and missile fire, peppering the area in a deadly hailstorm of bullets and explosions to try and take out the Yuke fighter and whatever accomplices he had around the ship. Seeing the massive amount of flak and missile fire coming from the warship, Peter's eyes widened as the world seemed to slow. Snapping his stick to the right and applying full left rudder instinctively, 'Leopard' barrel-rolled over the MiG in front of him, just as its fuel-line was struck with deadly fire. The fighter became a fireball, and if Peter had not reacted, he would've crashed head-on into the inferno. Blessing his luck, he immediately righted himself out, pulling up and high to try and re-organize the situation.

Flames dotted the entire harbor as the furball intensified, more and more fighters and attackers joining the battle as more ships of the 3rd Osean Fleet tried to escape, their decks either on fire themselves or unleashing hell upon the skies.

" Captain! Fighter on your six!"

So distracted was Peter with the world below that he didn't even realize the warning sirens and lights going off in his cockpit.

_Damn rookie mistake_, he admonished himself, immediately punching his throttle forward to try and outrun the MiG. Alas, the fighter was keeping trail with him rather well, forcing Peter to begin to push himself a lot farther than he thought he'd wind up going.

In a turn that put a decent amount of stress on the airframe, Panther Lead pulled back on his flight stick and tilted it slightly to his left. Just as he was about to go fully vertical, he slammed down on his left rudder and rolled his fighter further to the left. The 'tweaked' Immelmann turn* helped whip him around quickly, and allowed him to see that the Yuktobanian aggressor had been marking him too closely to replicate the maneuver. Another hard bank, this time to his right, and Peter was right behind the MiG-29.

" Leopard, Fox Two, Fox Two,"

The heat-seeking missile detached from the Osean fighter before rocketing off towards its target. The Yuktobanian tried desperately to avoid it, but eventually held one turn a bit too long. The projectile shredded through the plane's thrusters before exploding, and inferno engulfing the rear half of the fighter and ripping it from the fuselage. In two pieces, the MiG fell to the Earth.

" Nice shot, Captain," Cassandra complimented, noting also that Wardog was doing a damn decent job of moping up the A-6 Intruders that were flying low and slow to take a shot at the carrier. It seemed the _Kestrel_ noticed it too.

" Thanks, everyone. We request your cover until we break out of the port."

" Panther Squadron, copy. We'll do our best."

Their best, however, just didn't seem good enough. More and more Yuktobanian planes were slipping through the gaps in their defenses, and ships dotted all along the bay were igniting into bonfires on the calm waters. However, the Yuktobanians were taking their fair share of damage as well, only further serving to turn the port city into a raging inferno of metal slag.

" The entire gulf is in flames!" gasped Wardog Two, Kei 'Edge' Nagase, as she and a fellow Sand Island pilot raced across the tip of the water to gun down another fighter. Such a surprise attack, not to mention the stress she was bearing after what had just happened to Bartlett, her former Captain ... It was enough to bring her close to cracking.

" Man, what happened here? This is worse than I imagined…" agreed a voice that caused Diego to perk up a bit while dodging another batch of cannon fire and snap-rolling to his right to get a lock on another MiG.

" Chopper? Chopper, is that you?"

" Get out, Jackal?! I can't believe you actually made it into a squadron!"

" You two can catch up later," Lieutenant Nagase admonished them, pitching her fighter up in pursuit of another Intruder, " Stay focused, stay sharp."

Still, Diego couldn't help but grin for the next few seconds. At least his friend was alive, and that was something he could cling onto.

* * *

" Four, this is Three: I've picked one up, can you tag 'em?"

" I've got you in visuals, Tigress, maintain current flight path."

" I hope you know what you're doing, Cougar …"

It took every ounce of Dirk's willpower to repress his smirk to _just_ a smirk.

" Don't I always?"

Too busy to yell at her wingman, Cassandra could only continue to jink her fighter violently to try and deny her opponent a clear shot.

" Damnit, he's closing, he's closing, Dirk, where the Hell are you??"

As if she had been praying to a deity, the blip on her radar that had been in hot pursuit not even more than a second ago was suddenly silenced. Forming up at her right, Dirk was just cocky enough to give her a small wag of his wings in show of his victory.

" Cool it, Four," Peter advised upon seeing the show-boating, still grinning at the display of aerial marksmanship, " Waste your energy on splashing more bandits, not showing off."

" With pleasure, Captain," came the satisfied reply.

Another new broadcast came through to all Osean forces within St. Hewlett as the dogfights continued to rage above, the Kestrel's own fighters beginning to slowly join the battle.

" This is the Port Captain. All ships leave port immediately! Ships nearest to the exit first!"

" I don't _care_ if we take hull damage, we're clearing out of here any way we can," a grimly-determined captain informed his crew. His ship was already on fire, not to mention almost a quarter of his sailors were either wounded or dead. What more did he have to fight for than the possibility of escape? His hopes of at least saving his men and women vanished as a bomb fell directly through the bridge, taking out the Captain and most of the commanding crew just from the impact. When the explosive went off, it cracked the vessel's spine. Mercifully, most of the crew were killed by the internal explosions, rather than being dragged down into the depths.

" Escape the port and take evasive action. No mistakes!" demanded a female officer who spoke like she bore the weight of the world. Indeed, with all the mayhem and carnage surrounding the entire city, it was hard not to feel heavier, to feel the burden of death weighing one down. Peter certainly felt it, even as he continued to engage fighter after fighter. G-forces notwithstanding, he could feel himself finding it harder to breathe, an invisible boot crushing his chest. There was so much needless death all around: not a single space he could look where war hadn't touched it …

" This is the aircraft carrier _Kestrel_, approaching port exit."

" Roger, _Kestrel_," the Port Captain noted, before transmitting to all other ships, " The _Kestrel_ takes top priority! That barge over there, move it! I know you want outta here, but open up a path. That carrier's valuable!"

" All friendly fighters, this is AWACS Thunderhead," a new voice came through the radio, " More fighters inbound, they're headed straight for the _Kestrel_. Intercept, immediately!"

A round of affirmatives came rolling back as Wardog, Panther, and the fighters of VF Alpha-206, the _Kestrel_'s squadron, tore off out of the bay to bring down the Yukes before they came into firing range.

" Wardog, Intruders at our ten o'clock low," Peter informed 'Blaze', the leader of the Wardog outfit, once they had gotten closer.

" Confirmed. Wardog, engage."

As the three fighters spread out to intercept the carrier-based attack planes, 'Leopard' picked up a new signal. A fast signal. Swearing under his breath, he abandoned an attack run he had set up on another Intruder and instead climbed, turning once again away from the bay, his squadron in full pursuit.

" Captain?" inquired Diego, unsure of his leader's motives, yet following just as he had been told.

" More enemy fighters inbound," he informed his squad, " Leave the attack planes to Wardog, we've got to keep them safe."

His throttle punched forward, Peter roared off to meet the incoming MiGs head-on, his wingmen spreading out to cover as much area as possible to intercept the aggressors.

" Missile impact six-hundred feet off port bow!" the radio operator of the _Kestrel_ screamed, causing the Panthers to panic. The Yukes were zeroing in on the carrier: it was only a matter of time, now.

" Switching to semi-active radar guided missiles," 'Leopard' updated the other Panthers, to which all of them caught on quick enough and switched to the longer-range missiles. The distance was closing rapidly between the two flights, and Wardog was still an easy target as they flew at slower speeds to nab the Intruders.

Finally, good tone* came through and Peter's HUD* showed a solid lock.

" Fox One!"

Four missiles fired from four fighters streaked through the sky, their trails like a giant snake, slithering towards their prey with venom in their bite. It was then, just as the ordnance was away, that Peter saw the MiGs pitch down and begin to descend rapidly.

" Panthers, adjust course, keep them locked on!"

The Yuke fighters were increasing their speed as they dived, while the Osean Squadron was forced to make sure that they maintained tone to score a hit, angling their noses down with the yellow-painted jets.

Finally, they were rewarded with four blossoms of orange and red, the debris littering the ocean along with the rest of the destroyed fighters and capsized ships of St. Hewlett.

" This is Wardog, thanks for keeping them off our backs, Panthers, first and second waves of Intruders are down."

As if that wasn't good news enough, the _Kestrel_'s radio operator enlightened the weary Osean pilots to the most stellar information of the entire day.

" The _Kestrel_ has cleared the harbor! I repeat, the _Kestrel_ is in open waters! Bon Voyage guys!"

" Alright, we did it!" Diego cheered, forming back up with the rest of the squadron as they flew over the _Kestrel_, watching it as if angels from above. However, Peter could only sigh, cancelling the celebration short.

" The _Kestrel_ still has to make it out of the bay, and into the Ceres Sea. This is just the beginning, and the enemy still has a ton of reinforcements to throw at us."

He shook his head, though he knew none of his wingmen could see him.

" It's not over yet …"

* * *

Author's Afternote:

Seeing as I'm not sure how familiar some people are with aerial combat and military related terms, I will do my best to define a few of them that I use per-chapter. Words, acrynoms, and phrases that will be defined in my afternotes will be marked with an asterisk (*).

**IFF** or **Eye-Eff-Eff**: First off, let me point out that I never have characters speak letters or numbers. They will always pronounce them out, as in " Aeh, Bee, See," and " One, two, three," not "ABC," and "123." Now that that is settled, IFF is a 3 letter acrynom for **Identification Friend** or **Foe**. In laymen's terms, a fighter jet's IFF will point out which targets are marked as hostile, and which as friendly, as designated by Command.

**CO**: This is a military abbreviation for **Commissioned Officer**. In the military, there are Commissioned officers (COs) and Non-Commissioned Officers (NCOs). Any rank Second Lieutenant and above is a Commissioned Officer. An example of an NCO would be a Sergeant.

**ROTC** or **Arr-Oh-Tee-See**: This acrynom stands for **Reserve Officer Training Corps**. This is a program where, while a person is still a student within a University, then can train and commission as an Officer within the Armed Forces. While most people _do_ accept the commission at the end of training, some use ROTC as a lesson in discipline and to help branch out into other aspects of education. Seeing as all fighter pilots _must_ be officers (at least a Second Lieutenant, the lowest Commissioned Officer rank), some people consider the quickest way to start flying is to go through ROTC, whereupon one will graduate as a Second Lieutenant.

**OFS **or **Oh-Eff-Ess**: This 3 letter acrynom stands for **Osean Federation Ship**, as in **OFS** _Kestrel_. It is used similarly to **USN** or **HMS**.

**Hua**: This is the United States Air Force's rallying call. Much like the Army has, " Hoorah!" and the Marines have " Oorah!", the Air Force uses " Hua!" or " Airpower!" While this can be shouted to promote emphasis, almost like a modern day war cry, it can also be used to ask an affirmative and to give an affirmative, as in asking, " Yes?" and giving back the answer, " Yes."

**SitRep**: This is short for **Situational Report**. A SitRep is a brief summary of the current tactical situation: how large is the enemy, what are they using, their location, basically major information that _must_ be known to conduct combat operations in an area. It can also be used as ... well, a brief summary, for a force not directly involved in a battle so they can decide how best to aid their forces.

**Tone**: In the world of aerial combat, **Tone** is exactly that: a tone, or note, that is sounded in the cockpit when a fighter pilot gets a good lock on an enemy target. Having "good tone" pretty much means you are almost guaranteed to hit your target with most types of modern missiles.

**HUD**: Short for **Heads-Up Display**, this is usually a liquid-crystal computer display that is either fixed looking out the front of the cockpit or attached directly to the pilot's helmet. The HUD gives the pilot important information without having to search for it and possibly become distracted. Such information can include, but is not limited to, current speed, current direction, projected path, current pitch, an "aritifical horizon" for determining current roll, armament type and quantity, targeting systems, and altitude, just to name a few.

Also, to all those who are huge Ace Combat afficionados, I actually went back and played the mission "Narrow Margin" specifically to get the dialogue and radio chatter that goes on while you're flying. I figured if I was going to do this, I might as well do it right. Almost all of the dialogue present in this chapter, save for any interactions with the Panthers and maybe a few lines, is heard within the game. Just my little way of keeping this authentic and in-line with the game. Please note that this is not me ripping material from the game simply due to no creativity, but because of the fact that I want to continuously show that Panther Squadron is "there" at every major engagement Wardog Squadron is. Adding the radio chatter to the background is simply my way of authenticating it, not to mention I've always had a thing for the "frantic radio chatter" you always hear in most combat flight simulator games and dogfighting movies.


	3. Narrow Margin

**Author's Foreward**

Hello, one and all!

Sorry for not updating in so long, I toyed with abandoning this, continuing it, etc., but after finding a bit of inspiration (and time ...) I've decided to continue my own personal addition to Project Aces.

Sorry for the short chapter, but hey, something is better than nothing.

As always, I do not own any part of the Ace Combat series, including characters, locations, and events. All rights go to Namco and Project Aces

* * *

**Port of St. Hewlett, Osean Federation: September 27th, 2010**

" All Friendly Aircraft: Protect the _Kestrel_ for us!"

The order from the Port Captain was met by a resounding chorus from the fighter pilots over St. Hewlett, all of them rallying over the Carrier as it began to steam towards the suspension bridge to escape the bombarded bay. The Panthers, invigorated from their first few kills, were hungry for more and knew that there was plenty to feast on. As their F-20As swooped high overhead of the regrouping Osean Fleet, a lone F-14A Tomcat came roaring back to the port from the South, heading towards the West where the Carrier was headed.

" This is Swordsman," responded the experienced naval pilot, his plane's wings swept in for increased speed as he tried to reach the _Kestrel_, " On my way; that's our ship!"

" Negative!" came an order from on high, causing the Captain Marcus Snow, callsign 'Swordsman', to slow his fighter down, " This is AWACS _Thunderhead_. Swordsman, remain in the Eastern sector. Protect our territory and continue battle!"

The frustration from Snow was apparent in his voice as he continued to pursue his home on the water.

" But that's my Carrier!"

The AWACS operator, seeking a resolution to the situation, spied it in the other fighter squadrons in the area. While it certainly wouldn't make the pilots of VF Alpha-206 happy, the Osean forces were stretched thin as it was. All they could do was make the best with what they had.

" Wardog," he hailed the three F-5E Tigers, " Provide cover for the _Kestrel_."

This was the last straw as 'Swordsman' shouted back at their mobile radar operator.

" Damnit, you pigheaded --!" he began, before catching himself, taking a calming breath, and begrudgingly turning his interceptor back towards the docks.

" Alright, I'm counting on you Wardog," he warned the squadron's leader, 'Blaze', " Don't lose our ship!"

" _Thunderhead_," Peter chimed in, hoping to try and ease some of Snow's frustration, " Panther Squadron will assist Wardog in protecting the _Kestrel_."

" Roger, Leopard! Take out all bandits on approach to the Carrier!"

" We'll do our best," came the determined reply as the fighters formed up and then dived back into the warzone.

As they flew into the battlefield, each saw that the situation at the docks had only worsened. Wreckage stood where buildings once did, fire was consuming what few structures remained, and the populace was fleeing from their homes in every direction they possibly could.

" What a pitiful sight," Dirk observed as they soared over what remained of St. Hewlett, shaking his head in dismay.

" I hear ya, Cougar," Cassandra said solemnly, averting her eyes from the destruction. To see so many people have their lives changed within the course of only about an hour ...

" Form up, Panthers," Captain Ekken demanded of them, trying to take their minds off of the world below, " We don't look out for the _Kestrel_, and we're going to be seeing a lot more of this."

They nodded together, though neither could see the action as they pitched their fighters in to chase down the next wave of enemy Intruders.

" Range to bay exit: three miles," a communications officer aboard the _Kestrel_ notified the allied fighters, reassuring them that their job was close to being done, trying to inspire them on such a black day.

" Not much longer, we can do this!" Diego told his fellow Oseans, even as he hunted down another A-6, the attacker plowing into the water under a hail of bullets, its wings being ripped off upon impact. However, the Intruder's wingmate managed to sneak in behind Panther 2 and set himself up on an attack run.

" Enemy Attack! Return Fire!"

" Calm down! Just Calm Down!"

The frigate was assailed by three more Yuktobanian fighters as its anti-air defenses came alive, trying desperately to down the A-6s before they struck the small ship. Once they were close enough, each launched a long missile, dropping to the ocean's surface and racing after **OFS** _Privateer_.

" Enemy anti-ship missiles launched!" a panic-stricken voice called out, " Begin Phalanx fire!"

Several thousand rounds a second burst forth from the frigate, whipping the ocean around the explosives, but failing to strike any. A quick recalibration of the anti-missile weaponry allowed the small ship the blow apart two of the projectiles, but many of the bullets went _past_ the Long-range Anti-Ship Missiles, striking several of the buildings along the coast, one of which was an armory. The resulting explosion tore apart three more structures, setting ablaze a previously untouched part of the coast.

" _NO!_ Stop! You're firing on the docks!"

Peter sighed as the ship tried to shift fire once again, took a desperate evasive action which pitched the vessel something fierce towards one side, and was suddenly hit. The fireball that erupted threw several sailors off into the water and pushed the frigate even farther on its side. Their screams were ended suddenly as the vessel capsized, landing on top of them as it sank to the bottom of the bay.

" Dear God ..."

" Focus Panther Three!"

" Leopard ... this is _horrible_ ..."

" Panther Three, bandit sliding behind you!"

" Peter ..."

" God _Damnit_ Cassy!"

Cassandra had slowed her fight, unable to concentrate. She suddenly felt nauseous, the G-forces going straight to her head, ignoring all warnings from her Flight Leader as a MiG-29K began to approach her from her 5 o'clock high. The warning lights and sirens were blaring in her cockpit as she suddenly took off her breath mask, gasping for air.

Meanwhile, Peter had witnessed the bandit try to line up a kill shot on his fellow pilot, and zoomed up to try and stop Cassandra from becoming just another statistic in the Osean Air Force. Just as the Yuke was prepared to unleash a missile, Peter shot his fighter in-between Cassandra and her aggressor. The MiG's guidance system glitched at the new contact appearing so suddenly, causing the missile to go wild.

" Thank you defective weapon manufacturing ..."

Winging back around, Peter switched to guns and came down hard on the Yuke fighter, his cannon chattering all the way. The poor pilot never had a chance as he made a hard bank to his right ... straight into the hail of gunfire, blowing through his stabilizer flaps and engine. The MiG pilot tried to gain altitude, couldn't manage it, and went smoking down into the water.

" Tigress!" he hollered, " Tigress, stay frosty! Do you hear me? Get back in the fight!"

Cassandra shook her head, cleared her eyes. Where was she? Why was her mask off? Slowly she came back from her momentary lapse, slipping her breath mask back over her helmet, feeling the flight stick in her hand. Peter's words rang through her ears as she took a breath, calmed her nerves, and slowly formed up back on Peter's wing, trying to steel herself for the rest of the fight to come.

" I'm ... I'm sorry, Leopard, I -"

" Easy, Tigress," he soothed her knowing that any soldier's first fight was bound to cause some type of nervous breakdown. He had only hoped that it would happen _after_ the fight ...

" Just look alive. _Stay_ alive, you hear?"

" Yes Captain," came the shaky response, Peter knowing that he was pushing her beyond what she was currently capable, but that he also had no choice, " I'll stay alive ..."

Again they descended, back into rocket contrails and bullet tracers, weaving and dodging through the explosions, the sinking ships, the aircraft disintegrating into particles along with their pilots, trying to save whoever they could, to salvage hope ... before there was nothing left to rescue at all.


End file.
